Theater review: 'Laughter on the 23rd Floor' from Mad Cow Theatre

THE ARTISTIC TYPE: A BLOG OF THEATER, ARTS AND CULTURE

Steve Purnick (left)and Philip Nolen star in "Laughter… (Tom Hurst )

February 1, 2013|By Matthew J. Palm, Orlando Sentinel Theater Critic

Sid Caesar's "Your Show of Shows," a pioneering 1950s comedy-sketch TV program, is often held up as a shining example of great comedy. But it's hard to believe the laughter it inspired could top the fun found in Mad Cow Theatre's current production of "Laughter on the 23rd Floor," Neil Simon's homage to the TV classic's backstage shenanigans.

Simon was a writer on "Your Show of Shows," which ran from 1950-54 as a live 90-minute program on NBC's Saturday-night schedule. For Mad Cow's "Laughter," director David Russell has assembled a crackerjack cast to play the writers of the fictitious "Max Prince Show," led by Philip Nolen as Prince.

Russell knows comedy — his resume includes stints as artistic director of SAK Comedy Lab, and director for Disney's Comedy Warehouse improv club and Monsters Inc. Laugh Floor attraction. Here, his touch is so sure as to be invisible.

Joke after joke lands as the actors deftly fire off one-liners while they make full use of Douglas Huston's striking set.

The first act flies by with such giddy glee that as the house lights came up for intermission, I thought it must be a mistake.

The plot simply boils down to everyone trying to deal with the high-strung and highly eccentric Prince against a backdrop of McCarthyism and network bean counters. As with any show that looks back to what we now condescendingly call "a simpler time," there's an air of nostalgia in the writers' room that adds an appealing touch of sweetness to the zingers.

Nolen, prancing around the stage without pants (but in an overcoat), is a sputtering whirlwind. Nolen is a go-to guy for comic sputtering, often tinged with frustration or anger. Here, it's gloriously egocentric: His off-kilter view of the world is right because he is Max Prince. (And his explanation of how television pap feeds American consumerism, unprintable in a family newspaper, is priceless.)

The supporting cast is an equal match for Nolen. Among the standouts: Timothy Williams scores as a Russian émigré whose accent makes it impossible to swear like an American.

Steve Purnick is a lovable Borscht Belt comedian type, always ready with a quip. David Almeida has a solid characterization as dry-humored Kenny. And Connor Marsico has a simple appeal as young writer Lucas, who stumbles into this crazy world and narrates for the audience.

At one point, Marsico's Lucas tries to explain Prince's genius: "He didn't tell jokes. He was just funny," he tells the audience in awe. That's what this production is, too: intrinsically funny.